


Bridges

by spaceburgers



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Inception, Childhood Friends, M/M, Mentions of death/violence, Possible interpretation of child abuse/neglect, mentions of firearms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceburgers/pseuds/spaceburgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inception AU; Haru extracts, Rin runs point, Nagisa forges, Rei concocts, and Makoto, the greenhorn of the team (who also just happens to be Haru's sole friend from a lonely childhood), hesitantly becomes their architect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Free! collab challenge beta run ([iwatobiartfics.tumblr.com](http://iwatobiartfics.tumblr.com/)). This fic takes place in the same universe as the Inception movie, although none of the characters of the movie are involved or mentioned in this piece.

Haru doesn’t remember much of his childhood. Most of his memories come in brief flashes—bits and pieces from different points in his younger days, mostly jumbled and incoherent, but there are parts that are clearer than others.

Like:

The first time he was ever killed in a dream—shot in the forehead by his father before the projections could tear him apart limb by limb.

Being taught how to handle a gun, hands shaking so badly he could barely even keep a firm grip, the weight of the weapon in his hands feeling like a boulder even despite the knowledge that in a dream, he wasn’t actually going to kill anyone.

Sitting in his room, alone, quietly studying paradoxical architecture and dreamscape mazes, all the while wishing he could go outside and play, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the gap in his curtains.

But there are memories that are more pleasant, memories he has never quite been able to forget, moments he has sometimes—in the darkest and quietest of nights—replayed in his head, wishing he could relive them, just once.

Haru remembers sneaking out of the house for the first time, maybe seven or eight years old—he can’t quite remember—terrified out of his wits because he knows if he’s caught by his father, the punishment is extra in-field training, and he _hates_ it, absolutely _loathes_ it.

It’s not that he’s never been outside before, of course he has. But every single time it’s always been with either one of his parents by his side, and they always seemed to be on edge when they were in pubic, always _watching out_ for something, and that nervousness infected Haru, even though he had no idea _what_ his parents were so nervous about.

_(He knows now, of course, in retrospect. It’s not easy living on the edge of the law. Frankly, he’s not even sure how his parents managed to get by pretending to be your typical one-child family in the suburbs of Tokyo.)_

But this time—this time he was _alone_ , he was _free_ , and he could do whatever he wanted. The sheer immensity of the possibilities that lay ahead of him overwhelmed him. He was terrified, and nervous, and absolutely _exhilarated_.

He hadn’t wandered too far away from his house, just barely walked down the street when he’d bumped into another boy, probably the same age as Haru himself.

Haru remembers the way the sunlight glinted off the boy’s brown hair, remembers the way those green eyes had shone when the boy laughed, grabbed Haru’s hands enthusiastically, and introduced himself as Makoto.

That was the first time Haru met Makoto—the first time Haru met his first ever proper _friend_.

They’d spent that afternoon playing together, and Haru had managed to sneak back into his house without anyone noticing he was gone. He hadn’t gotten into any trouble, and instead, he’d met someone incredible.

Haru hadn’t known what to say, or how to act in front of somebody else his age, but Makoto hadn’t minded at all, simply tilted his head questioningly when Haru explained he didn’t go to the elementary school that all the kids in the neighborhood went to—he was _homeschooled,_ Haru had proclaimed, having picked up on that new and impressive word from one of his mother’s phone conversations—and didn’t hesitate at all to share his toys with Haru as he told Haru about so many wonderful things the other boy had never known about.

All Haru knew was how shared dreaming work, and how to steal secrets from someone else’s mind, and how to avoid getting torn apart by rogue projections in a dream gone wrong, but somehow even he could grasp that it wouldn’t do to tell Makoto about all these things.

And so he just sat on the warm grass and listened to Makoto talk and marveled at the way the exact shade of brown to his hair seemed to change depending on how the sunlight bounced off the top of his head.

Ever since that first meeting Haru would sneak out of his house from time to time, getting better and better at the art of escaping the notice of his parents with each successful trip. Every single time he’d run to Makoto’s house, and without fail, Makoto would be there, that bright smile fixed in place, and Haru was happy.

He still never knew what to say, and he was still achingly quiet, and he still hardly ever smiled, but he was happy—happier than he’d probably ever been.

This went on for a few years, but it eventually got harder and harder for Haru to escape detection and leave the house, even for a brief moment—training with his father got harder and more intense, and talks about actually bringing Haru into the field had started cropping up more often, until finally, one day in the spring of the year Haru turned thirteen, they’d moved away to central Tokyo, and Haru never saw Makoto ever again.

*

At the tender age of twenty-four, Nanase Haruka is one of the youngest extractors in the field, and certainly one of the most the most gifted. Having been identified by his father, the late Mr. Nanase—formerly an extractor himself—as a prodigy right from a young age, Haruka had been trained in the art of extraction since he was a child, and all that effort has certainly paid off.

At least, that’s what the rumor mill says about him.

Another commonly known fact about Nanase Haruka is that in addition to being one of the most skilled extractors in the region, he is also one of, if not _the_ most, elusive.

He only takes jobs that interest him. His exact location is difficult to pinpoint, because he’s always moving from one place to another. It’s exceedingly hard to track a man down when the entire world is his playground, and he has a good number of men all working to cover his tracks wherever he chooses to go.

It’s said that there’s only one man who keeps in close contact with this Nanase Haruka: one Matsuoka Rin, another Japanese extractor who frequently runs point for Haruka when he’s not busy heading his own missions.

Their two-man team is highly sought after by corporations all over the globe, not just in Japan, and whenever they do manage to get hold of them for a job, they can certainly be assured of a large sum of money in return for their services.

It’s rumored that there are two other men who work with them occasionally—a forger who goes only by Nagisa, and a chemist, Ryugazaki Rei. Not much else is known about the two of them. They seem to be keeping a low profile.

And so that is how Nanase Haruka lives—hiding in the dankest corners of the underground world, surfacing occasionally to field a job, and then quietly disappearing back into the shadows right after, as if he had never been there at all.

(It’s probably also worth mentioning that Haruka has never failed a mission—not even once.)

*

“Nagisa and Rei are late.”

“Give them time.”

“Haru, they’re half an hour late.”

“They’ll be here.”

“Haru, Rei is _never_ late, I think—”

“But Nagisa usually is.”

“But they might not be together. I suggest we—”

“They’ll be here.”

“Haru, for the last goddamn time, would you actually _listen_ to your point man _for once_ —”

It’s at that exact moment that Haru’s phone starts to ring in his pocket, and it’s not without casting the faintest of smirks in Rin’s direction that Haru fishes the device out of his pocket to answer the call.

“Nagisa—Yeah.” A long silence. “Okay. Bye.”

Haru sets down the phone, but he doesn’t need to say a word to Rin, who’s already gotten up from his seat, heading to the entrance to the warehouse to let their forger and their chemist in.

It’s a straightforward job, the usual corporate espionage nonsense that Haru handles every single day. The fact that it’s an inception job, rather than the usual extraction, doesn't faze Haru either. It just means they need more personnel and more time to be spent on planning, that’s all. There’s not much else to it. Once you get the hang of inception, it’s pretty much just the same thing over and over again.

The whole process is usually made easy because Haru has everything he needs—time is never an issue, and he knows he has his team ready to answer to his call at any given moment—point man, architect, forger, chemist.

Except this time there is a slight problem, because one piece of Haru’s perfectly placed puzzle is missing.

The architect that Haru has been accustomed with working with has recently left the extraction business—permanently—and Haru’s not going to go against the personal wishes of a fellow associate.

Haru’s architect has served him well over the years. The problem now is finding a new one whom he’ll be able to work with smoothly.

Hence today’s meeting.

“Okay,” Rin says, standing up and pacing the room while the rest of the team stares at him from their seats—save Haru, who’s looking at the floor as if he’s expecting a hole to open up any minute now.

“So, we’re all here today because Haru thought it’d be better to tell you guys in person that our architect has…” Rin pauses for a moment, searching for the appropriate word. He might be the point man to Haru’s extractor, but really, the one running the operation and actually leading the team is all Rin. Haru just comes up with the ideas—the brains behind the operations. Rin fills in the gaps in Haru’s grand schemes and makes sure everyone knows what they need to do.

It’s not uncommon at all for Rin to be the one chairing team meetings like this.

“Retired,” he concludes at last, and Nagisa gasps exaggeratedly from his seat.

“ _Retired?_ ”

“That’s what I said,” Rin barks irritably, but his grouchy demeanor—as usual—doesn’t deter Nagisa in the slightest.

“Then what are we going to do for our next mission? If we don’t have an architect, then—”

“ _Will you just listen to me?_ For fuck’s sake, nobody in this goddamn team _ever_ listens, it’s just Haru in his own damn world and you talking like your life depends on it and Rei being his usual stuck-up self—”

“Don’t drag me into this! I was listening!”

“—anyway, _as I was saying_ ,” Rin continues, shooting a sharp glance in Rei’s direction, “we obviously can’t continue with our planning without an architect, so our priority right now is finding a replacement.”

“So then what do we do while this is going on?” Rei asks, leaning back against his chair and folding his arms.

Rin casts another glare Rei’s way before he answers.

“I’ll cut straight to it. Haru wants your recommendations. He wants to work with people that he knows he can trust, and the best way to find people he can trust is to find people that _you_ guys trust.”

Silence falls over the group at Rin’s proclamation, broken only by Nagisa’s uncertain voice.

“...There’s someone I know that Haru-chan might be able to work with.”

*

Haru would never admit it, but the real reason why he works with Rin is because Rin is one of the few people he’s met who can deal with him.

He might know the best ways to extract information from a subject’s mind or how to break into the most elaborate of vaults, but if there’s one thing that Nanase Haruka has never been good at, it’s human interaction—and when you’re working in a field where maintaining good relations with your employers is, at times, perhaps even more important than the quality of your work itself, that clearly doesn’t bode well for Haru’s job prospects at all.

Which is where Rin comes in handy. Rin is persuasive where Haru is passive, forceful where Haru is silent. It’s not an exaggeration to say that without Rin’s help, Haru probably would’ve been taken out by some corporation whose boss Haru somehow managed to offend a long time ago. Rin might be an asshole in private, but at least in public, he knows how to behave.

But today Rin isn’t here to help him negotiate, to step in when words fail Haru or when Haru simply doesn’t quite feel up to the task of speaking to a stranger. Rin isn’t here because he’s handling the greater evil by going to speak with the corporation who has hired their services.

Haru has the much simpler task today, but it still feels like something that’s far out of his league.

_At least Nagisa will be around for a bit._

In retrospect Haru could probably pin the blame on their architect for retiring, hence the need for a new one. But Haru’s not that kind of person. He’s not spiteful. All he feels is a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach that might or might not be similar to the symptoms of food poisoning.

He hears the click of the door opening, his senses attuned to even the smallest of sounds, before Nagisa manages to even open his mouth to inform Haru of his arrival—and bringing with him their new architect.

Haru doesn’t know anything about him, apart from the fact that he and Nagisa have known each other since high school, and that he’s a graduate student of architecture at one of the local universities.

“Haru-chan! It’s me—and I’ve brought our new recruit too.”

Haru isn’t looking at them, though. He’s standing in front of a desk, his back turned towards the door, staring down at the blueprints their previous architect had left behind from previous missions.

“Go on, Mako-chan! Introduce yourself!”

“Oh! Well—u-um…”

Something about that voice stirs something within Haru. He looks up, blinking, his hands pressing down hard against the surface of the desk. His fingers curl, and his fingernails scrape against the wood, but he doesn’t even notice.

“I’m Tachibana Makoto, pleased…”

 _That’s_ when Haru finally, finally turns around, and it takes only a second for Haru to recognize that overgrown brown hair and those bright, bright green eyes.

“…to meet…”

Makoto’s sentence dies out before he can finish it.

Silence hangs in the stale air of the room as for a moment, Haru and Makoto just… look at each other.

“Uh… is something wrong?” Nagisa pipes up, and the moment is broken.

Makoto blinks, shaking himself before turning to face Nagisa, his lips automatically curving into a smile.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing! It’s just…”

He turns to look at Haru again, but Haru’s looking at the ground, at his feet, at anywhere else but Makoto’s eyes, his heart pounding so loudly he can hear it in his ears.

Haru knows how to deal with every single possible scenario that could happen in a dream.

He doesn’t know how to deal with _this_.

Unconsciously he finds himself reaching into his pocket, feeling for the familiar weight of the totem there, having to make sure that this isn’t a dream, but how could this _possibly_ be a dream when Haru never dreams for pleasure anymore—

“…We’ve met,” Makoto finishes, simply, and Nagisa’s eyes widen at the simple statement.

“Oh! I see! I should leave you guys alone to catch up then!” Nagisa announces, already inching towards the door. “S-see you two later!”

Haru hears rather than sees Nagisa leave the same way he came, still staring at the same spot on the floor, heart still pounding in overdrive.

He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to just disappear.

“…Haru, right?”

Another beat of silence.

A nod.

“Um… it’s been a long time.”

Haru chances a glance at Makoto, and it’s only then that he realizes that Makoto’s _smiling_ at him, in a way that’s so painfully familiar that Haru can’t quite bear to look away.

“…Yeah.”

Makoto’s smile doesn’t waver. Not a single bit.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?”

Haru looks back down at his feet.

“I don’t know,” he says, truthfully.

*

Haru manages to remember his manners at some point and invites Makoto to sit down, which is how they find themselves sitting across each other on the sole sofa that Haru keeps in the workshop—their _planning space_ , as Nagisa calls it.

It’s still incredibly awkward, and Haru can still barely look at Makoto for more than two seconds before he’s forced to either look away or spontaneously burst into flames, but they’ve started talking business, which, at least, is something Haru knows he can do.

“…So basically you’re _stealing_ secrets from somebody else’s mind?”

“Essentially.”

Makoto pauses for a long moment, turning that thought over in his mind, and Haru watches him out of the corner of his eye, watches Makoto prop his chin against his hands, deep in thought, until that two-second limit is up and he’s looking away again.

“But how… how is this— Has this always been _around_ , or…?”

“It’s a well-kept secret,” Haru answers, curt and to the point. Makoto still looks like he’s in a daze—he slumps back against his seat, eyes glassy and unfocused.

There’s a long moment of silent before Makoto speaks up again.

“S-sorry, this is just…a lot to take in, you know? Nagisa didn’t tell me anything about what this project was about, just that…”

A pause. Makoto looks up at Haru, and a wry smile crosses his lips.

“…Just that it’d be a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

Haru has no clue what to say in response, so he answers with what he knows best—silence.

“Have you…have you been doing this for a long time?” Makoto finally asks, and Haru isn’t looking at what kind of expression Makoto’s making when he answers.

“All my life,” Haru says, honestly, and Makoto’s head whips up in shock at his brusque response.

“ _All_ your life?” he echoes in confusion, and Haru nods.

“Even…” There’s a pause then, and somehow Haru knows what he’s going to say before the words even leave his mouth.

“…Even back then, when we were kids, did you know…?”

“My father,” Haru explains, “was an extractor too.”

A sudden wave of nausea rises in Haru’s gut at the memory of it; he’s never talked about his past—people who knew about his father’s legacy didn’t have to ask him about it, and people who didn't know wouldn’t ask at all. It’s the first time Haru’s ever had to talk about it, and for the nth time today, he finds himself at a complete loss for words.

“So is that why you didn’t go to the local elementary school with the other kids? Because you were training to do…to do _this_?”

Haru _really_ doesn’t want to talk about it, but he looks up, straight into Makoto’s concerned gaze, and for a moment, he feels that connection from a childhood so long ago stir up inside him once again.

“It’s all I’ve known,” Haru mutters, just barely loud enough for Makoto to catch it, before standing up and turning away, heading towards his desk.

“I’ll show you the basics of dreamscape architecture,” he says, much louder this time, and that’s the end of the discussion.

*

Haru hires Makoto officially by the end of the day, with instructions to come back tomorrow to meet the rest of the team. Goodbyes are said, Makoto smiles that same all-too-familiar smile that makes Haru’s chest clench, and Haru’s left wondering if the decision he made was a wise one.

*

Planning kicks into full swing with the addition of a new architect to the team. Haru coaches Makoto on the side, introduces him to all the possibilities that can exist only within the dream world. Makoto picks it up quickly enough, and it doesn’t take long for him to start drafting out mazes and structures for their mission, so Haru isn’t too worried having an inexperienced member on the team.

What _does_ worry Haru, though, is the process of planning in general—although, that’s nothing new. Haru really should be used to it by now.

“ _No,_ Nagisa-kun, converting the entire city of Tokyo into a layer of the dream would be a _terrible_ idea for many different reasons, and you know why—”

“Aww, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud, Rei-chan! Jeez, you have no imagination at _all_ , no wonder you’re just the chemist…”

“What do you mean _just_ the chemist?! I’ll have you know that my role in the team is just as essential as yours—”

“Yeah, but is chemistry even _half_ as cool as forging? Can you do cool tricks in a dream? Huh? Can you?”

“Maybe not, but I—”

“ _For the love of all that is good and holy would the two of you just shut up for one goddamn second so I can_ think _!”_

Rin’s outburst is met with silence for a whopping ten seconds before Nagisa’s off on another tangent.

“So Mako-chan, how’s building been going? Are you getting the hang of things yet? It’s really cool, right? Just like I promised, right?”

Makoto laughs good-naturedly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It really _is_ like nothing else,” he concedes, “but…we’re in the middle of planning, so maybe…”

“Yes, _thank you,_ someone sensible for once. Makoto’s right, we haven’t been getting anywhere at all and we need to get this done within a week so—”

“I have an idea.”

Haru’s crisp voice interrupts Rin mid-sentence, and abruptly he gets up from his seat, moving forward to scribble down some notes on the whiteboard that’s been placed at the front of the room.

If anyone were to try to interrupt Rin like that, they would probably get an earful, but when Haru speaks up, everyone listens. It’s not exactly a rule, but everyone does it anyway. It’s just something about Haru, some kind of magnetic quality that can make a whole room listen to every word he says.

When he’s done writing down his idea, he turns around and steps aside to let the team read what he’s written.

He’s met with a resounding silence.

“Uh… Haru-chan? I don’t really get it…”

“Yeah could you, like, I dunno, maybe write in _sentences_ for once?” Rin mutters, managing to sound both exasperated and tired at the same time—quite obviously, he’s gone through this with Haru _many_ times in the past.

When it becomes apparent that Haru isn’t going to say anything else, Makoto clears his throat nervously, and every single pair of eyes in the room immediately turns to look at him.

“Uh, well… I think what Haru’s trying to say—”

If anyone notices the peculiarity of Makoto calling Haru by his preferred nickname when they’d only just met (as far as the rest of the team was concerned, at least), nobody makes any indication of it.

“…is that we can keep the city idea for the first layer and combine the subject’s home into that setting, since we’ve already decided on a scenario for that…” Makoto pauses for a moment to glance at Haru for confirmation that he’s interpreting his words correctly, but Haru just looks back at him with an unreadable expression.

Makoto looks away from Haru before he continues. “…then for the subsequent layers we can use the other settings that’ve been tossed around the past few days, like the library.”

There’s a terse silence after Makoto finishes speaking, and he turns to cast another nervous glance Haru’s way to try to get him to say something, but when he meets Haru’s gaze Haru turns away immediately.

“Is that what you were trying to say, Haruka-san?” Rei asks tentatively.

Haru nods.

There’s a collective _oh_ of understanding, although it could possibly also be interpreted as a sigh of relief.

Planning goes on as per normal after that, but Haru doesn’t miss the way Makoto keeps stealing glances at him throughout the whole thing. Neither does he miss the way he finds his heart beating in double time every single time Makoto looks his way.

*

It has always been a tradition, ever since the original four team members, plus their former architect, had first gotten together, for the team to go out for drinks a few days before their mission. Nagisa calls it liquid luck. Rin calls it loosening up after having to be in the same room as these idiots for six weeks straight.

Whatever it might mean, a tradition is a tradition, and this mission is no exception.

Which is how Makoto finds himself trapped between four of his new teammates (friends?) at one of the pricier bars downtown that Makoto never thought he would ever step foot into—for various reasons.

Reason number one is that he’s a poor graduate student who was so desperate for a job offer just a month ago he couldn’t even afford the more expensive soy sauce brands at the grocery store.

Reason number two is that he’s a complete lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

He tries to keep his intake of alcohol at a bare minimum, he really tries, but it’s hard when Nagisa keeps refilling his cup and ordering more drinks for the whole table and Rin (hopefully accidentally) makes a comment about people who can’t handle their alcohol being pussies and—well, Makoto reasons that this is all part of the job too, don’t people go out drinking with customers and co-workers all the time?

 _It’ll be fine_ , he tells himself as he screws his eyes shut and downs an entire shot in one go.

It doesn’t take long for him to lose count of how many times his cup’s been refilled. Or who’s refilling his cup, actually. It just magically fills up every time he finishes drinking it. Huh. Who knew, right?

Things become a blur after that, and Makoto figures he must have thrown up at some point, because everyone leaves after that, and he finds himself being dragged to the workshop— _it’s the workshop, right? Yeah, probably_ —by Haru. There’s a car ride where he tries his best not to throw up all over the very nice leather seats, and then Haru holding him by the elbow as he pulls him into the lift with him and Makoto suddenly remembers when they were maybe seven or eight, Makoto being the one pulling Haru with him as they ducked behind a wall to avoid being seen by his mother, and oh, Haru really hasn’t changed much, has he?

He tells Haru as much, but Haru doesn’t even look at him, so he repeats it again, louder, and it’s then that Haru finally replies.

“You’re drunk,” he says, simply. “Stay the night here and go home in the morning when you’ve sobered up.”

“Stay here with me,” Makoto blurts out, and a strange look crosses Haru’s face that makes Makoto think he must’ve said something wrong.

“You’re drunk,” Haru says again, still with that look on his face, and Makoto shakes his head vehemently, stepping closer to Haru, watching as those blue eyes widen.

“I missed you,” Makoto says, again, and it doesn’t matter that the words come out a little bit slurred, because he knows that Haru’s heard him, and he’s stopped trying to walk away so that _must_ be a good thing, right? So that means it’s okay for Makoto to soldier on—and he does: “I looked for you, after you moved away. I always—I always remembered you, even after all these years. And just when I thought I forgot about you Nagisa told me about this job, and he mentioned someone called Haru, and I wasn’t sure it would be you, but I came here anyway even though it was all sketchy and everything and it _was_ you, and I—”

The look on Haru’s look changes, and for a moment he looks like he’s just been struck; he freezes in place, not moving, and Makoto’s words stop abruptly too, so that they’re both left staring at each other in silence.

“…I have to go.”

Haru’s voice comes out hoarse, just barely a whisper, but in the quiet of the room it’s clear as day to Makoto, and before he can say anything in reply, Haru’s already gone, his hurried footsteps echoing through the hallway.

Makoto stays rooted to the spot, staring at Haru’s retreating figure, even long after he’s gone. He stumbles backwards, hits the sofa, and sits down on it, still staring aimlessly ahead.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have eventually blacked out at some point because when he comes to, its morning and there’s a pounding headache in his skull, but even that doesn’t manage to block out the memory of the events from the previous night.

Makoto stays there, acutely aware of the stench of throw-up and alcohol emanating from him, curled up on the sofa for a long, long time.

*

Life goes on. Rin slaps him across the back and teases him about his drunken behavior, but under that Makoto can tell he’s genuinely concerned, and he expresses his thanks accordingly—which somehow gets Rin embarrassed, and seeing Rin all red-faced does help to bring a smile to Makoto’s face.

Nagisa fusses over him and scolds him for having a lack of self-control, but Rei barges in with a quipped comment that it was Nagisa himself who kept refilling Makoto’s drink, and from there they end up bickering (again), which gives Makoto the chance to surreptitiously step away from the conversation and find some space for himself.

He’s thankful for this small measure of normalcy after _that_ —and it’s definitely not his imagination that Haru’s the only one of the team who’s been acting strangely. Haru usually never quite looks at people, but he’s _definitely_ avoiding Makoto’s eyes completely. And for good reason, of course.

Makoto tries to keep the memory out of his head, but every time it comes back he can’t help but feel heat creeping up the side of his neck—shame, mostly, with a side of embarrassment.

He’s never actually thought about it (never _let_ himself think about it) but there isn’t much of a point in denying it any longer.

He…well, he won’t call it _love,_ not just yet, but…he definitely _feels something_ for Haru. He probably always has, ever since they were seven years old and Makoto couldn’t believe that Haru had never had ice cream from the local convenience store before, even years later, when Makoto was saying goodbye for Haru for the last time and couldn’t quite put a name to the crushing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

And now—well, it’s too late by now, isn’t it?

Makoto’s an idiot.

He should have never taken up this job in the first place.

*

It takes two days after the incident and two days before D-Day before Makoto finally speaks to Haru again.

“I’m sorry for what happened that night,” Makoto says, pulling Haru aside after everyone else had left for the day. “I’d really appreciate it if you could just… forget that ever happened. Sorry. I’ll keep things professional from now on.”

He doesn’t wait to hear Haru’s reaction. He bolts right after he gets the words out of his mouth.

*

The job goes well. Makoto doesn’t go into the field with the rest of the team due to his inexperience (and also because he can’t hold a gun without his hands shaking so badly he ends up shooting himself in the foot instead), so he spends the time monitoring the situation until everyone wakes up, one by one, and all it takes is one look from Haru for Makoto to be assured that everything went smoothly.

He’s relieved, really. As much as he enjoyed the endless potential that building within a dream gave him, the knowledge that what he was doing wasn’t exactly _legal_ just didn’t sit well with him. He’s thankful for the experience, and is _more_ than thankful for the pay that it’s given him, but he’d really like to go back to what he knows best— _real_ architecture, building _real_ buildings in _real_ spaces.

There’s another party after the mission is over, both a celebration and a farewell once Makoto makes his intention of leaving clear to the team. He’s grateful that they don’t pressure him to stay; just some protests on Nagisa’s part that quickly give way to understanding.

They’re holding it at the workshop this time, drinks and some food, and it’s nice. Makoto likes the quaintness of it all. Really, if there’s anything he’ll miss, it’s definitely the company.

He’s grown fond of Rin’s grumpiness and propensity for telling the rest off; Nagisa’s cheerfulness and the pranks he pulls from time to time; the silliness that Rei keeps hidden under a well-cultivated façade of propriety.

And…well. Haru. Of course he’ll miss Haru.

He hadn’t realized before just how much he _liked_ Haru, but once he’d admitted the fact to himself it seemed so obvious that Makoto isn’t sure how he could have possibly missed it all this while.

Their little get-together seems to last forever, but as the night winds down people start trickling out, Rin first, then Nagisa and Rei together, bidding him farewell as they go, until finally, it’s just Makoto and Haru. Alone.

There’s a very tense silence right after Nagisa and Rei leave. They’re both sitting on opposite ends of the couch, and the space between them feels like an infinity to Makoto.

At last, he speaks.

“I…I should probably go, then.”

He stands up, walking to the trashcan to throw his paper cup away, and all the while the room is dead silent.

Haru doesn’t say a word, and it soon becomes apparent to Makoto that _this_ is how it’s going to end.

He’s probably never going to see Haru again so—

What the hell, right?

“Haru, I—”

He turns around abruptly, paper cup still clutched in his hand, and it’s with a small jolt of surprise that he realizes that Haru’s actually _looking_ at him.

Straight at him, those piercing blue eyes looking as if they’re boring straight into Makoto’s soul.

He gulps. Counts the seconds in his head. One. Two. Three.

Fuck it.

“Haru, I…I really _like_ you. A-and I guess it’s just as well that we’ll probably never see each other again, but I just wanted to tell you, I guess.” Makoto’s rambling, feeling like a stupid sixteen year old in high school all over again, tongue tripping over words that come out strange and garbled—“I… At first I didn’t even realize it myself, but I…I mean, seeing you again, and not really knowing how to talk to you, and I—”

The words die in his throat when Makoto sees Haru walking towards him, and instinctively he stiffens, freezing in place as Haru comes closer and—

Silently, he lowers his head, pressing his forehead to Makoto’s shoulder, and Makoto still isn’t moving. Can’t move.

“Stay,” is all Haru says, and somehow Makoto understands.

“But I…I don’t know if I—”

“You like the job. You’re good at the job.”

“But, I…”

 _But it’s illegal and I’m not trained for this,_ is what he wants to say, but Haru gets there before he does.

“You can still do your regular architecture work,” Haru says, and even though Makoto can’t see Haru’s face like this, he can still hear that hint of desperation that’s crept into Haru’s voice. “You don’t have to go.”

“But Haru, I—” It’s useless, Makoto knows, trying to defend his case, because Haru _is_ right. He _doesn’t_ want to leave.

He wants to stay here. Like this. Just like this.

“Haru,” Makoto starts again, urgently this time, “when I said I liked you, I really meant it—”

“I know,” Haru interrupts, his voice soft. “I know.”

Makoto can barely hear over the way his heart’s hammering in his chest, but he catches Haru’s words completely clearly, and he’s sure that Haru can feel the way his heart leaps into his chest like this but he doesn’t care, because surely, surely that can’t mean that—

“Haru,” Makoto whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heartbeat. “Can I kiss you?”

Haru doesn’t move, doesn’t look up.

He doesn’t have to.

“Yes,” he says.

And so Makoto does.

*

The team’s next job is two months later, just a basic extraction job, but Rin (under Haru’s orders) calls Nagisa and Rei over, just for old time’s sake.

The both of them walk into the workshop together, late, as usual, and the first thing that Nagisa says upon stepping inside is:

“ _Mako-chan?_ Why are you still here?”

Makoto looks up over his shoulder from where he’s seated on the sofa, and he smiles.

“I changed my mind,” he says, simply, before turning back to look at where Haru’s seated across him, perched on an armchair.

Haru smiles, just the corners of his lips lifting up the tiniest bit, and Makoto wonders how he could have ever considered the possibility of leaving.

They’re a team.

And he’s happy. He’s really happy.


End file.
